


Darkened Corner

by Jetainia



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Autistic Character, Autistic Jaskier, Blanket Permission, Fluff, Multi, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29914686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jetainia/pseuds/Jetainia
Summary: A dark corner is just what Jaskier needs after a performance.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Kudos: 18





	Darkened Corner

Jaskier had spent two years travelling completely by himself before latching himself onto the grumpy Witcher who practically glowed with ballad potential. He’d since spent twenty years travelling with Geralt off and on, with Yennefer also popping in now and again for seven of those years. He could confidently say that he much preferred travelling with companions than alone. Not only did he have lovers who wouldn’t throw him out of the bed (and window) when a spouse or family member arrived home early, he also had people he loved watching his performances and that just made everything in an already great thing even greater.

He’d always dreamed of being a famous bard, renowned throughout the Continent and begged to play at all the trending events and now he had played in multiple courts for the greatest of occasions. As a child, he’d enjoyed playing for his father who had set aside an hour every week in his busy schedule for music and only music. His mother, apparently, had loved music and when she died a few months after he’d been born, his father had clung to music as a way to keep her alive in their lives. As an adult, he found that while he delighted in playing for grand courts or rowdy taverns, what he truly enjoyed was playing for an audience of one or two—depending where his loves were at that point in time—in the confines of whatever room or clearing they were in.

Yennefer was sitting in a corner of the tavern common room now as he led the villagers in the rousing chorus of their requested shanty as his final song for the night. She was smiling softly as she watched him—though she’d deny it fervently if he brought it up. With one final strum of his lute strings, he brought the night’s entertainment to a close, collected the scattered coins thrown his way, and plopped down next to Yennefer.

She pushed a goblet of wine and plate of food over to him silently, glaring only slightly at him when he went to speak instead of eat. The food she had clearly ordered from the barmaid and deemed it worthy, the wine (and goblet) had to have been summoned from wherever she kept her good vintages and items—a feat Jaskier just put down to ‘magic’ after Yennefer had tried and failed to explain it in a way he understood.

He drained half the goblet to sate his thirst and wet his throat after his performance then leaned into Yennefer, exhausted. Yennefer huffed but circled her arm around him loosely and passed him the slice of bread that had come with the soup to nibble on until he regained enough energy to eat. The room around them buzzed with the continuous chatter that groups of people always generated, providing a soothing background noise as Jaskier settled himself in Yennefer’s presence and the quiet dark corner she’d claimed for them.

This was one of the other reasons he loved travelling with Yennefer and Geralt, they took care of him. He didn’t need to function immediately after a performance because they functioned for him. He could sit quietly in the dark corner that they always found and claimed (or made, in Yennefer’s case if she was unimpressed with the selection available) and pull himself back inwards. He loved performing, would never give it up, but it took a toll on him and he always felt stretched out and dry afterwards. These quiet moments in dark corners with Yennefer, Geralt, or both made him feel like a plant finally getting water after a long day in the hot sun.

He leaned his head on Yennefer’s shoulder and slowly made his way through the bread. The light dimmed even further than it already was and Jaskier stroked Yennefer’s hand—the only part of her that was in easy reach of his own free hand—in thanks knowing she had used her chaos to reduce the amount of stimulation he was getting. Come tomorrow or even later tonight, he’d be back to bounding around with endless energy until his next performance but for now he rested and ate his bread (and eventually soup).


End file.
